


A Life by What We Get, a Living by What We Give

by pandettia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fighting, Gangs, M/M, Modern Thedas, Other, WIP, Whump, more tags will be added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandettia/pseuds/pandettia
Summary: In modern day Kirkwall, Garrett Hawke is doing his best to support his boyfriend Anders who is working through medical school. Taking up random jobs is enough to get by most of the time, but when Hawke gets a little desperate to make ends meet he takes up a simple delivery job that pays way too much to be anything good.





	A Life by What We Get, a Living by What We Give

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a quote from Winston Churchill

The alarm blared obnoxiously, periodic beeps disrupting the slumber of two men tangled together. An arm reached over and slapped the sound away as the more lithe of the two started to get up.

 

“Stay with me. Let’s just stay in bed forever,” Hawke grumbled, not moving from his position, looking up at Anders hopefully. He got a small chuckle for his efforts.

 

“I’m afraid there are people at the clinic who have greater need of my services,” he firmly told Hawke, digging through the wardrobe to find his work clothes.

 

“I think you’ll find I am in desperate need of your services,” Hawke said with a wink.

 

Anders shook his head. “Not those kinds of services.”

 

“Damn right. They’re only for me.”

 

“Right.” His voice trailed off as he left for the kitchen, hunting down some breakfast.

 

Groaning, Hawke decided to leave the bed. He padded through the apartment to the kitchen, where Anders had his back to the doorway at the breakfast bar. Sneaking up behind him, Hawke allowed his arms to slink around Anders’ waist, resting his head on his shoulder.

 

“I’m trying to eat here.” Anders remarked, pretending to be annoyed.

 

“And I was trying to sleep. You have to make sacrifices in every relationship.”

 

“Mmm. Well, I think it’s time for me to get going.”

 

Hawke spun Anders around on his stool so he could look at him. “So soon? We’ve only just woken up.”

 

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what a shirt is?”

 

“You like me better without the shirt. Why so soon?”

 

“And you like it better when you get to sleep longer.” He got up and brushed past Hawke with a kiss. “I’ve really got to go. Behave, dont scratch up the furniture, remember where to use the toilet.”

 

“I’m your boyfriend, not your cat!”

 

“Huh. Shame. I should’ve gotten a cat instead,” he said as he walked out the door, waving goodbye. Hawke shook his head lightly and cleaned up his breakfast, then went to get dressed.

 

When he returned to their tiny ‘open plan’ kitchen-diner-sitting room, he began to sift through some letters that had been ignored for a little too long. Sitting on the bar stool, he began opening them. They seemed to be pretty non-important, until he found one from the landlord.

 

‘Dear Mr Garrett Hawke,

 

This letter serves as a notice for rent increase…’

 

‘Shit,’ he thought. They could barely afford the rent as is, not that he’d let Anders know. It was tough, with Anders being a student, but if he knew then he’d let his grades suffer or even drop out and take a shitty office job to help pay. It’d break his heart, but he’d do it.

 

Hawke refused to let that happen.

 

They got by on whatever pay Hawke could get from taking random jobs, and it had worked pretty well until now. This month hadn’t been great for pay, sure, but they’d always made it up somehow.

Looking at the date of the letter, Hawke needed a solution, and he needed one sooner rather than later.

 

He wouldn’t be able to land a steady job soon enough, and he’d checked everywhere he could think of for more of his usual odd-job style work with no success just yesterday. Though, there was always Gamlen.

 

Hawke recalled his uncle’s offer to put him in contact with an ‘employer’ who wanted someone to carry out a task for a decent amount of money, no questions asked. It sounded sketchy, causing Hawke to refuse, but that was then. Morals weren’t going to pay the rent.

 

For a moment, he weighed up his options. With a heavy sigh, he picked up his phone and dialled Gamlen.

 

“Hey, if it isn’t my least favourite nephew. What do you want?”

 

“Do you remember when you mentioned about that job? It was about a month or so ago.” He could hear Gamlen snort down the phone.

 

“I thought you were ‘too good’ for that kind of work.”

 

“Yeah, well, times change.”

 

“I can put you in contact with them. I know what it’s like to be hurting for money.”

 

Hawke groaned inwardly. Just what he needed, Gamlen relating to him about money issues. “Thanks. Just do me a favour - keep this between you and me.”

 

“Won’t say a word.”

 

Hawke hung up and waited on Gamlen. Sure enough, a text came through.

‘Meet their contact at the docks at midnight. They’ll be near that statue - they’ll approach you.’

 

It seemed as shifty as he’d expected, and he was already beginning to regret his decision, but he needed the money.

 

The rest of the day went fairly normally, with Hawke looking for any more respectable jobs - and failing, calling Anders during his lunch break, going to the gym, cleaning a little bit here and there.

 

To his dismay, Anders had managed to come home at a reasonable hour. It was hard enough sneaking around behind his back, but it was worse seeing his face.

 

“Guess who managed to get home early!” Anders’ voice rang as soon as he passed the threshold. Guilt began its slow corruption over Hawke as the happy tune in his voice hit him.

 

“On time, more like.” Hawke said, swallowing the waves that bubbled in his throat. He got up and there his arm around Anders, pulling him in for a hug and then leading him to the sofa. Anders snuggled into Hawke once sat, and they stayed for a moment to enjoy each other’s company.

 

Wrinkling his nose, Hawke looked down at Anders. “You need a shower,” he complained, disrupting the moment.

 

“Or a bath?” Anders asked hopefully. Hawke looked at him with a smile.

 

“I’ll go run it. Go get ready.”

 

It was worth it for his excited grin and the little ‘yes’ that he let out. As he ran to the bedroom, Hawke followed, turning into the bathroom instead. The room was only just big enough for the bath, but neither of them minded that much.

 

Hawke began running the water, splashing it around to make sure the temperature was just right. Rummaging through their dedicated ‘bath bag’, he managed to find some bath salt and oils left from the last time Anders came home with enough time to spare. He even went as far as to light a couple of candles and place them around the room, making the tiny bathroom as presentable as possible.

 

There was a quiet knock on the door.

“You ready yet?” Anders asked.

 

Hawke opened the door to face Anders who seemed to lack all clothes but a towel around his waist.

 

“Get in, I’ll be with you in a moment.” He murmured, sliding past and giving a slight push as incentive to go in. It didn’t take long before the two were settled in the warm water, soothed by the faint scent of the oils. Warm candle light flickered, making for a soft orange glow to illuminate the darkened room.

 

The two stayed in the bath until the water went cold, tenderly kissing one another and basking in the simple joys an intimate relationship brings. All arguments were forgotten for the time, and they caressed each other as if no one else existed, as if the world belonged to just them and however they spent their time was a luxury only they could dictate. Skin stroked skin, and they needn’t say anything to communicate for their passion was so innate in every fibre of their being.

 

This trip away from the everyday made reality even harder to deal once the lights were out. As he waited for his partner to sleep so he could slip away, Hawke felt as if he might as well slip a knife into the back of his beloved. He considered not going, but ultimately decided that the money would make it worthwhile. It’d just be the one time, after all.

 

——————————————-

 

Head down, hands in his pockets, Hawke briskly paced the poorly lit streets of the city. Stopping at the meeting point, he leant on a nearby wall and checked the time. 12:02. Fashionably late, as always.

 

Whilst he fumbled with his phone, another man had stepped out from around the corner. When Hawke looked up, he pretended not to be surprised.

 

It didn’t really work.

 

“You’re the delivery boy?” The man sneered, looking Hawke over. His features were obscured by the darkness, but his gravelly tone helped Hawke’s imagination to fill in the blanks.

 

“You’d think that’d be an important thing to know. I could be anyone. Police, even.” Hawke quipped defensively, caught off guard.

 

“D’you want money or a punch in the face?”

 

“Always was a masochist.”

 

“Don’t push it. You’ve a simple job, don’t fuck it up.” The man pushed a piece of paper into Hawke’s hand, then got uncomfortably close. “You got this job because of close connections. We’ll be happy to ‘cut the cord’ if you don’t play by our rules.” His breath smelled as rotten as his personality, and he pushed harshly into Hawke before strutting away.

 

As he began to flatten out the paper, he rolled his eyes at the tough guy act. Some guys always had to take things too seriously.

 

His eyes flicked across the scrawl on the paper.

‘The package is located between Lierene’s Ferelden Imports and Trinkets Emporium in a large black container. More instructions will be found there.’

Nothing could just be simple, could it?

 

The odd thing about the location is how it reminded him of Anders. It gave a twang of guilt seeings Lierene’s Imports, where they first met.

 

_‘Carver has been bugging him all day. It was more to shut him up than anything when they went into the shop with a mabari statue at the window._

__

__

 

_It was unsurprising most others inside were Ferelden, not many others would be drawn in. Garrett was just considering waiting outside when he caught sight of a blonde haired man at the doorway behind the counter._

__

__

 

_“Thank you - you don’t know what it means to me that you’d let me stay here.” He said to somebody behind him._

__

__

 

_”How could I say no? You’re literally a lifesaver. Just make sure you live up to that promise, yeah?” A woman’s voice came as she emerged from behind. She looked concerned as she watched him leave._

__

__

 

_“I’ll try my bes-“ He turned to talk as he walked out, but stumbled into Garrett instead. Tripping him up, Garrett fell off balance into a donation box behind him. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, here, let me help you get up.”_

__

__

 

_Garrett took his hand and looked at the donations that now littered the floor. The other people in the shop stopped to stare, and Garrett could swear he felt Carver groan inwardly._

__

__

 

_”It’s not a problem, let me help clear this up.”_

__

__

 

_Scrambling around together on the floor, the pair managed to collect the coin back into the box. As they got back onto their feet, their eyes met and Anders gave him a bashful smile._

__

__

 

_”Guess I should watch where I’m going - again, I’m really sorry.”_

__

__

 

_Hawke shrugged, watching as he slid the box back. “No worries. But if you’re intent on making it up to me, you could meet me for dinner later?” The boldness of the reply caused Anders to pause, a slight blush turning his cheeks pink._

__

__

 

_Nearby, Carver mimicked retching. His brother couldn’t even walk into a shop without something happening.’_

 

It didn’t take long to make his way there. Sure enough, down a thin and dark alley, there was a large green container with a parcel inside. He flipped it over and found another note with what seemed to be directions ending up at a blue terraced house. Deliver the parcel, collect payment, never talk about it again. Seemed simple enough.

 

Yet there was a nagging feeling that wouldn’t leave him alone. Something about this wasn’t right. What was in the parcel? His hands ran along the package, simply wrapped in brown. Surely they wouldn’t notice if he just took a peek?

 

Against his best interests, Hawke gently pulled away the wrapping, ensuring none of it ripped. Leaning against the wall, he pulled out a leather bound book. Inside he found pictures of people - different ages, different builds, all with a price and another number labelled ‘dose’. Smaller doses had smaller prices, which made sense. He shut the book and slid it back inside the packaging. Was this a drug deal? Were the pictures of potential customers? What did the book mean? Looking did nothing to put Hawke at ease, but he had doubted that it would.

 

After taking a few moments to think as he leaned against the wall, Hawke pushed away to go and deliver the parcel. He couldn’t really turn away now, no matter how he felt.

 

“Not so fast,” a voice called from behind him. He silently cursed and turned around. He’d been caught. “That parcel you just opened - you’re still going to deliver it?” The person approached, beckoning for him to come further into the alley as they move out. Moving further into the streetlight that lit the entrance, Hawke noticed they were a woman.

 

“What’s it to you?” He asked defensively, untrusting of the stranger.

 

“Relax. I’m not out to get you, and I’m not with your employers. In fact, I’m a friend. That parcel you’ve got, don’t you want to know what it is? Curious, don’t you think?” Her velvety voice lured Hawke further in. He still half expected to be jumped, but she made a valid point, asking questions he’d wondered about not moments ago. “Take a guess. Who are they?”

 

“Customers?”

 

“They’re the product. The dose is used to sedate them, keep them submissive for their owner. Different people require different doses. Usually they’re sold in package deals - the initial dosage is a lot cheaper because your employers know that they can make a tidy profit from selling the customer more once they run out. You’ll be delivering that book right to a potential customer.”

 

“It’s- this is slavery!” Hawke spat, disgusted. His head span. He couldn’t go through with this, not if that’s true... but his family were still at risk. “How... how do you know?”

 

She shook her head lightly. “I can’t tell you that. I’m going to need you to trust me, and I’m hoping that you’ll listen on the chance that what I’m saying is true. These are real people. They are in real danger.” Walking up to the container beside Hawke, she slipped a lighter onto the top and pushed it towards him. “Take this. Burn the pages. I will compensate you, and it will be a much greater reward than what the Highwaymen are giving you.”

 

“I-“ he swallowed, his words caught in his throat. He wanted to. It went against every fibre of his being to allow this to happen, but he had to look out for his family. What if they got hurt? “I can’t. They said.. they know who I am. Who my family is.”

 

“That’s understandable. But I told you, I’m a friend. Friends look out for each other,” she told him as she stepped a little closer. “You needn’t worry so long as you have your friends watching your back. I’ll meet you at the Hanged Man when you’ve done it.” With that, she began to walk into the darkness of the alley. “Oh- and don’t try to collect your reward without doing the job. I’ll know.”

 

Once gone, Hawke was left with the parcel and the lighter. Clicking the flame on and off a few times, he took his time deciding what to do next. It could all be a trap set up by the Sharps Highwaymen, but they didn’t seem the type to go to all this effort. She kept mentioning that she was a friend too - what the hell did that mean? The whole situation was odd and left Hawke feeling uneasy, but ultimately he knew what he had to do.

 

Taking the book out of the parcel once more, he held it by the cover and exposed the pages. Holding the flame up to them, he watched as they burned away. He threw the bindings on the ground and stamped out the embers, shoving his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the Hanged Man.

 

———————————————

 

Walking alone in Kirkwall wasn’t the brightest idea at the best of times, never mind in Lowtown at night. The Hanged Man wasn’t far, and if he just kept his head down and walked fast then Hawke hoped it wouldn’t be a problem.

 

There were very few people on the streets at this time, and Hawke guessed the time to be around 2am. He was tired and just wanted to get this all over with. Distracted, he bumped into one of the only other people around.

 

Or they bumped into him. Taken by surprise, Hawke found himself shoved into a side street by the man, who was promptly joined by two others. The man was about a head shorter than Hawke, but his backup helped with intimidation.

 

“Alright, delivery boy. You had one job. The package. Where is it?” The mans face twisted, and he spat at he spoke. It was particularly noticeable at the short distance he maintained between him and Hawke, squaring up.

 

“Think you’ve got the wrong person, mate.” Hawke tried, but was met with a swift punch to the gut. He groaned, tending up his stomach.

 

“Let’s try again. Where is the package?”

 

“I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong guy!” He said through gritted teeth, as another punch sent a wave of nausea through him.

 

“Third times the charm. Better be, my friends can be impatient.” It seemed he enjoyed Hawke’s pain, with his twisted little smile matching the twisted little man. “The package.”

 

“So they’re not just pretty faces, then?” This time, Hawke managed to shove him away and swipe a fist at his aggressor. Stumbling as he regained his footing, he assessed the situation. Running seemed the best course of action, but the advances made by the now very angry attacker made this difficult.

 

“Fucking bastard, thinks he’s funny. Get him!”

 

Hawke instinctively ducked as another fist made it towards his face. Balling one of his own, he went to hit one of the larger men but his fist was caught and was promptly kneed in the gut. Sharply taking in a breath, Hawke staggered back as he held his stomach and tried to move away from the others. A slap on the side of the head brought him back, panting. Acting more wounded than he actually was, he lured them in closer before kicking out and forcing one man away from him. He then threw his body into another, causing the man to hit against the wall with a satisfying smack where his head hit brick.

 

He now turned to face the smallest of the lot, who had began charging towards him. Without enough time to move away, Hawke was knocked over onto the floor, his head bouncing off the pavement and a metallic taste flooding through as he bit his tongue.

 

The smaller man, now on top, took the moment to straddle Hawke and try to start punching him. Little did he know, Hawke knew this position very well. Grabbing his forearms, he rocked them so he could shift all his weight into getting on top. Once there, he delivered a few swift blows to the head in order to incapacitate him.

 

The man who had been kicked away had other plans, and mid swing Hawke was dragged up by his collar. Clawing at his throat for air, he was almost relieved as he was thrown back down on the ground as he choked. Unable to move away, Hawke simply watched from his vulnerable position as the man approached. Heart beating faster with each step closer, he began to attempt to get up. Just as he thought he was about to be kicked down, somebody else joined in and smacked the man over the back of the head. It seemed to take a moment to register before he fell down, but Hawke’s saviour didn’t linger to watch. He was already onto the remaining guy, and knocked him over the head. The way he gracefully dodged the lumbering attack was mesmerising, and Hawke began to panic as he approached.

 

However, all the cloaked man did was offer a hand to help him up. He hesitantly took it, and was about to ask who he was when an envelope was shoved into his hand. Wasting no time, the stranger left Hawke alone in the street with three unconscious men.

 

Hawke looked at the front. ‘To a Friend’. Opening the envelope, he audibly gasped as he was welcomed by money. A lot of money. Enough to pay the rent and then some. It was not the only thing there - a note, too.

 

‘If you feel like helping out again, you know where to go.

 

-Your Friend’

 

Odd. He’d have to think about that later, though, as his current situation needed to take precedence. Hastily shoving the envelope into his pocket, Hawke made a beeline out of there and back to the apartment. There was no way he wanted round 2.

 

——————————————

 

Stealth wasn’t Hawke’s usual tactic, but tonight he was branching out in more ways than one. He held his breath as he jiggled his key in the lock, and let out a little sigh as the door swung open without too much of a fight. It was a small miracle the lock didn’t put up a fight as it usually did.

 

Taking care to shut the door quietly, Hawke made his way over to the bookshelf on the far side of the room. Finding the dustiest book he could, he slipped the envelope inside and slid the book back in position. Most of the books were for show anyway, so it seemed a safe place to hide the evidence from Anders. He went red from his own shame, not that anybody could see. Hiding things never ended up well, but it was for their own good. Anders wouldn’t want him getting into this mess but Hawke refused to let them get kicked out just because he couldn’t find a decent job.

 

As tempting as it was to just slide into bed with Anders, he knew he had to clean himself up first lest he face questioning in the morning. Opting to use the torch on his phone rather than turning on the light once in the bathroom, Hawke inspected himself for any noticeable injuries. A small cut near his bottom lip and what looked to be a bruise forming on his cheekbone, but other than that he was fine. Anders would ask, but it wouldn’t be the first time Hawke walked into a doorway or lamppost. All that was left was to slide into bed and pretend he was never gone in the first place.

 

Once his head hit the pillow, Hawke was gone. It had been a long night indeed.

 

————————————-

 

Metal schliked against metal as Anders opened the curtains, allowing sunlight to bathe a snoring Hawke. Half naked and currently on his front embracing a pillow with his face half buried in it, Anders smiled and shook his head at his disheveled boyfriend. The smile faded slightly as Hawke turned a little away from the light, revealing the purpleish mark on his cheek.

 

Sitting on the bed, Anders leaned over to look closer at the bruise. He brushed Hawke’s dark hair away gently, stroking it away. They went to bed together and he could’ve sworn that wasn’t there before... or was it? Had he just not noticed? No, he was pretty sure Hawke had been fine.

 

Hawke let out a tiny grunt as he peeled open his eyes, disrupted from his sleep as Anders stroked his hair and looked down at him with a concerned expression. It took a moment for him to remember what was going on and why Anders would even be doing that.

 

He pushed himself up to face Anders properly, who then frowned more as the cut was revealed.

 

“You look like you’ve just been in a fight - what happened?” His voice dripped with concern as he asked, stabbing Hawke in the heart with each word. He couldn’t tell him what actually happened, but Anders had a way of looking at him that made him want to pour his heart out.

 

“Oh, this? I, uh, got up in the night and, uh, tripped up into a wall. Didn’t want to wake you,” he lied through his teeth, every syllable another sin burning him up inside. It wasn’t a convincing lie, it wasn’t even a good lie. It certainly did nothing to soothe Anders either, but after a few moments of looking at Hawke with uncertainty he accepted he wouldn’t get anything else.

 

“If it happens again, tell me.” He let out with a sigh, kissing the top of Hawke’s head before getting up once more to get ready. Just as he got to the doorway, he paused and said, “you can talk to me, you know that right?”

 

His reply came in the form of a nod. Hawke waited until he’d left the room to lay back on the bed properly with a flump. His stubborn refusal to say anything resulted in a deep set feeling of guilt settling like a great weight in the pit of his stomach. He stared at the ceiling for a while, unable to shake off the feeling and sleep in. Giving up on getting more than a few hours sleep, he got up about a half hour after Anders had left and headed straight for the bookshelf.

 

Taking out the note, he read it over and over with the money in his other hand. There was no way he wanted to sneak around Anders and lie to him again, but there were people out there being sold as slaves. Slaves. He couldn’t just abandon them, but he couldn’t report anything without proof. As soon as he got some proof, he’d hand it straight in to Aveline and then he’d be done.

 

He’d managed to convince himself to go to the Hanged Man just to see where it lead. All he needed was some proof to hand in and then life would return to normal.

 

It would just be the one time, after all.


End file.
